My mind wanders back to Deacon and last night. I think about the way he smelled my hair and moved it off my shoulders to expose my neck. Thinking about how he leaned in to kiss me, has me giddy.

Ignoring the reality of Sam’s intrusion, I picture what could’ve been. Deacon’s and my lips touching, our tongues tangled passionately. Him lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping around his waist while he carried me to his room and lay me on his bed.

Kissing, touching, learning about each other’s bodies and the things we like. Until finally, he takes my virginity, coming inside of me, then falling into his arms. Breathless and weak, but content.

There’s a loud thunk as the coffee carafe slams onto the tabletop. It startles me out of my daydream.

“Cream?” my mom says.

I look at her wide-eyed and a little afraid, as if she were reading my thoughts about Deacon creaming inside of me.

“What?” I ask.

“Are you still using the cream?” she asks.

I say, “Oh. No. Sorry,” and slide it

and sits back. “So how

breath to calm myself down. “Fine. Cute

My words clipped. I hope she doesn’t notice or ask any more

sips her coffee, reading the wet newspaper. “Good. Did he ask you to babysit

offered

her paper. “Maybe now you can start helping

sigh

again. This time I bring a bag full

Deacon says, his face lighting

feel my own face mirroring his. How is it possible that he looks even better today than he

some stuff for Bailey,” I say to

so sweet of

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